


Teach Me How to Love Myself

by compilemyvile



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M, Nonbinary Hange Zoë, Past EreJean, Slow Build, and jean with juicy thighs makes me wanna cry its so perfect, and stripper jean is one of my fav things so hi im gonna write a thing, i have 0 chill, im literally so in love with sow build it couldnt be anything else, jean has thick thighs and a bubble butt bc i have no fucking chill, rlly imagery full self indulgent fic, stripper! Jean kirschtein, the sex will come dwdw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:44:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3882772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compilemyvile/pseuds/compilemyvile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thick thighs. Soft Lips. </p><p>A self discovery journey that has Jean thanking the sun every morning and the moon every night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach Me How to Love Myself

**Author's Note:**

> Literally just a self indulgent piece that will be jam packed with stupid metaphors and stems from headcanonning jean with a bubble butt on tumblr.
> 
> Jumping back on the multichapter fic track after a v long time so bear with me x

Perfection isn't something defined, but, rather, something discovered. There is no concrete definition and as a child grows, they learn, and then only they can define that word for them. Maybe it’s a lazy Saturday morning with the steam from their hot tea billowing up until it’s whooshed away by the squeaking ceiling fan. It could the arms of a lover around them every evening and every morning or it could be their little hide away in mom’s basement because they haven’t quite grown up yet and their video games define them more than the sense of failure bubbling in their gut does. But, more often than not, it’s learning to love themselves, it’s finding everything about themselves they used to hate, beautiful. It’s staring in the mirror with eyes filled with awe because after years of self-hatred they've finally grown, within themselves, and can finally say, with one hundred percent certainty, that they love who they have become and wouldn't change it for anything else in the world.

For Jean, it wasn't easy. He was a chubby child, with a long face and a deep scowl that should scare anyone away but didn't. The teasing was relentless, it was around every corner and behind every door. The jeers were taunting and came in pairs, once one child joined in there would be another right beside him until there was a group shouting insults Jean’s way. Children were relentless and more than a little cruel. Jean bought into every shouted “tubby” or “muffin top” and sniffled about it in the stalls where he shut himself away during lunch time to avoid having insults cooed his way from those he believed he ate too much. There was nothing wrong with him. He wasn't a problematic child and he’d always kept to himself but when the weight clung to him while to slid off other boys, they hated him.

It tore him down from the inside out until he was a hollow mess who ate lunch in the bathroom and skipped out the last few minutes of a period just to get safely to his next class. He’d always been led to hate his weight, and thought he would always. But if perfection really is found then maybe, just maybe, he’d have the chance to find it too.

His saving grace came in the form of his cousin, his dear sweet cousin, graced with every ounce of beautiful genes that he admired. She was thin with thighs thinner than Jean could even hope to have. But he didn't resent her, he couldn't when she was all smiles and persuasion to join her for her latest obsession. This time it was pole dancing. There was a small class downtown. with some of the university girls. She promised it wasn't sexualized, it was just to work out, to get into shape.

The first class was awkward, Jean was shy. His sweatpants were pulled up well above his hips and his sweatshirt hung low as if to conceal his body mass. But the girls there were all smiles and coaxing hands, leading him out of his little shell. He promised Hitch he’d return.

And return he did. Every Saturday at nine am he was in that dance studio and while the weight didn't slide off of him like butter he’d lost a couple pounds. A few of the girls were thicker than he, but he found them beautiful, and that led him to believe that maybe people thought that way about him. 

Jean was still teased at school, and even more so now that he was shaped more like a girl than a boy. He didn't let it bother him quite so much anymore, not now that he had the girls to escape to on the weekends where he could flaunt himself just as much as he wanted or not at all if he just wasn't in the mood. 

But on the days he wore shorts that clung to him, whistles followed him in his wake before the girls collapsed into a pile of giggles, at which Jean would pout at and whine. He didn't mind, he loved when they were happy. He came to learn that he wasn't the only one using this place as an escape. 

Most of the women were older, with stress heavy on their shoulders. Hanji's son had just passed away and sometimes Jean could see it reflected in their eyes but then they’d be right back into the lesson with their tongue captured between their teeth in a cheesy smile. Nanaba's divorce had just finalized and she missed the days when her and her husband were actually in love. Frieda's father had kicked her out once he found out she was pregnant, and so she was living at her boyfriend's house which wasn't the safest place for the child and as the due date neared she mostly sat out of the exercises and watched with a happy smile. Though sometimes, Jean would see it slip as she looked off to the side and after class ended, when they were all saying their goodbyes, Jean would always give her an extra long hug that she much appreciated. Rico, their instructor, was on a search for her real parents ever since she turned eighteen all those years ago, her adoptive parents wouldn't allow her to search while she was still under their care, so turning of age was a big deal for her. And Hitch, well, Hitch didn't talk about her problems and Jean guessed that was his fault for being there, she didn't want to complain about family when he was family. But Jean wouldn't of minded and he would of kept it to himself, so he hoped she’d soon grown as comfortable as the other girls were with him. 

Their class was small, Rico had a larger class afterwards but Jean preferred this one and stuck to it well throughout his high school years. It was his sanctuary. And he felt very lucky to have it. 

He didn't have the girls’ numbers, but he didn't need them. Because every Saturday was his day to let loose, he could complain and vent all while working it all out on the pole by his side. 

Jean grew up, he matured, but he never dropped the class. His mother never found out about it, but when he graduated his girls were all in the stands, whistling and having him a blushing mess as he climbed the stage. He didn't mind, it felt good to have friends, to have a family that cared about him more than his own and who accepted every part without reserve.

He’d long ago grown to realize that a family wasn't something you were born into, but something you found and he'd found it in a little dance studio at the end of main street stuck between a run down donut shop and a thrift store he frequented. His mother tutted at him for waking up early on the weekends and in the next breath she’d tell him to make sure to do something about his mess of a life. And Jean knew, he knew he was a mess but it wasn't wonderful to be told that all the time.

But then he met Eren, sweet Eren with skin like dark honey and a smile that had him weak in the knees. He was fifteen when he met Eren and he was fifteen when he fell in love for the first time. Jean was young and he was so very stupid, but as the sun rose so did his heart because he knew every morning he’d wake up to a “good morning, baby.” or a “how’d my beautiful dear sleep?” 

Jean giggled into the phone one night, eyes shining as he turned every which way, giddiness grasping every one of his limbs and yanking them into motion. “I love you.” He’d said. “I love you like I love nothing else and I’d love it if you’d love me, too.” 

There was a soft laugh, that soothed Jean into motionlessness. “You know I love you, sweetheart. You’re like my sun, and I’m like you moon. The more I’m near you, the more I glow.” Jean giggled at that, chewing his lip between his teeth. He’d never been called the sun before. The sun was important, it sustained them all, and being compared to it was like being called an angel. “Sunshine.” Eren murmured. “Get some sleep.” And he did, he got some sleep because Eren's sweet voice lulled him into it and the soft words circling his mind where better than a hand caressing his cheek, not that he'd complain if it was.

Their conversations lacked substance, they didn't discuss the future, they didn't say they'd love each other forever. Because life happened and they were young and stupid and met in a really dumb school class in a really dumb school and maybe they’d part the same way. They didn't know, so they didn't plan, they just let each other know how much love they were filled with. Jean kept his insecurities back and Eren did the same, but they were alright, they were a young couple with no plans to grow up, but it was inevitable. The sun’s glow would dim and with it so would the moon, and then the love wouldn't be there anymore. Any strain could do that. Any strain at all. 

It didn't take long for things to end, they’d only been seeing each other for a handful of weeks and things that started out with love flaring always ended the same way. It wasn't Jean’s choice for it to end, but after class one Saturday Eren was waiting for him on his front steps, a rose clasped between his hands. And so he let Eren in with a giddy smile, and they gripped hands as if it were their only life line. He saw no harm in the act, seeing as they were both too shy to try anything beyond cuddling. 

Jean’s mother didn't see it that way, not when she came home to her darling child snuggled up to a man, he’d later explain Eren was just eighteen but she’d hear none of it, not when soft stubble was running over her baby's smooth face, she'd scrub his face until it was raw until she was satisfied that she'd washed the other man off of Jean. The groceries dropped but her voice did not as she screeched at Eren to stop corrupting her baby. To step away. To get away. To never come back. Eren, bless his poor, skittish heart, bolted. It wasn't his fault, he was still young and didn't have an empathetic bone in his body, that didn't make him a bad person, it just meant he couldn't understand.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair! Jean told his mother that but she’d hear none of it, not until her sweet baby would calm down and speak to her. He didn't speak, he didn't listen. He went to his room and tried to apologize, he really did. He needed to apologize. To bring Eren back.

 **Jean:** I’m rlly sorry about my mom.  
**Jean:** Like rlly sorry. I didn't know she’d be home.  
**Jean:** I don’t think she’ll be here later tonight if you want to come then?

There was a long time before Eren actually replied. 

**My Moon <3:** I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jean. I don’t think we’re a good idea. 

Jean tried to work everything out, to apologize with every breath, but they’d found their strain. And their relationship wasn't strong enough to push through, not when they were both young and hurt. Not when they were both learning that being gay wasn't something everyone so easily accepted. Eren had a few years on Jean, but that didn't mean he knew what he was doing anymore than Jean did. 

His mother took it upon herself to mention cute girls she saw when Jean was out with her and, with that, resentment grew. Resentment towards her and resentment towards himself. It corroded every lovely thought that Eren used to occupy. If Jean was the sun 

Jean grew up, he grew up and he grew up and he couldn't stop fucking growing up and he just didn't want to anymore. He wanted to stay young and stupid and be aloud to make mistakes and kiss cute boys and go to his class every Saturday and not worry about bills or college or his weight. He just wanted to be a kid, but, more than anything, he just wanted to be happy. 

Happiness came in an odd form, it wasn't pure and it wasn't complete but it lifted stress from his shoulders and caressed him until there was a soft smile on his lips. It came with a new girl in his Saturday class. Petra. Sweet, darling Petra who saw him dance once and offered to bring him by her work, he accepted with a smile. 

And before Jean knew it he was led to a pulsing dance club on a Friday night the following week. There were girls up on platforms, wearing flowing clothes that swayed with every twist of their hips as they swiveled the pole they always seemed to be connected to. Petra beamed up at them, these were her girls while his were stuck at home. But he didn't feel out of place, not when Petra pushed through towards the back dressing room and he was surrounded by beautiful smiling faces all squealing about his cute little face and pinching at his thighs, humming in satisfaction when the fat underneath gave under their prodding fingers. They accepted him as one of their own before he even realized what was going on. 

He’d been complaining about money for college recently and he realized with a start that Petra was trying to solve that, trying to get him grounded, trying to help him out of his home that made him feel uncomfortable. So he accepted, just as happily as his mother did not. Not when she found out, not when she realized that her baby boy was a stripper. But he wasn't a baby anymore, he’d turned eighteen and then he became his own person, his own responsibility and he tried very hard to make his mother understand that. But she had become dense with old age and so he was left by himself, but also not by himself. Not when he had his girls, and not when his loving family had grown. 

Jean’s footing didn't come easily, not when he’d grown up to an icy slope that always had him slipping down. But, between his work schedule and his class schedule, he was kept busy, kept distracted, unable to sit down and think about how his home wasn't his home anymore. He stayed with Petra until his cash flow increased and he was able to rent a studio apartment right on the outskirts of the city. It was small and quiet, and full of other young adults like himself. A few of the girls from work lived there and sometimes they’d stay at his place. 

His home was open to the girls he worked with always, whenever they had problems at home with boyfriends or family they’d come to him and he’d accept their shaking forms into his arms and coo to them as he invited them in. His stage name was Big Brother and the girls he worked with picked up the nickname and used it for him as well. 

Jean’s fashion choices were always questioned, it was the age of the crop tops and high waisted shorts. The girls loved them at work and so did his clients, but outside of work it wasn't nearly as accepted. But he always had a girl on each arm, either from class or from work, chatting off his ear so he wouldn't notice the looks that would have him flinching back inside if it weren't for his friends. 

While his fashion choices weren't terrible by his friends’ standards his hair went through some very questionable fazes. The iced tips were the worst but when that was followed by Jean shaving his head completely they would of loved the tips back compared to how bare his head was. The hot pink extensions made his pale skin look even paler and the coon tails he added later made the girls gag and ask if he was a twelve year old scene kid. They used to swoon over his man bun faze when his undercut was the perfect short dark brown and his lighter top was pulled up into a messy bun. But the long hair bothered him so he cut it just right so that it swept into his face but not too much, and that had become the “Renaissance of Jean”. 

Jean hadn't found his perfection but with every compliment that was gushed from the mouths of his friends over his thick thighs he got a little closer to extinguishing his self hatred for good. 

**—**

Jean’s home was home for many of the girls from work, so it didn't surprise him when Sasha shuffled inside with a huff when he’d held open the door. 

“ _Hijo de puta!_ ” She huffed as she spread out on his couch, immediately jumping into an explanation that left him silent. It was her foster family, again. She was eighteen and could move out legally but finding a place was hard and every time he offered his place she’d laugh weakly and pat his hand but admit that she wanted to do this on her own, she was never allowed to do anything on her own. “They’re nice people.” She always assured, but Jean had to wonder if that was more to convince herself than to convince him. “But it’s crowded and loud and Connie had taken it upon himself to string up my bras in the hallway. Shouting about how padded they are.” She gripped with a pout. It wasn't the first time she’d had complaints over her foster brothers, he couldn't keep them straight if he was telling the truth. So he just let her talk until she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “I wish I could offer the same thing you offer me. A safe place. A nice place.” 

Jean smiled and ran his fingers through her hair absentmindedly. “You are my safe place, just being here is enough. Coming to me is enough.” It made him feel useful, he didn't add. But it was implied. 

“ _Beso mi culo!_ ” Sasha shouted at a knock on the door with a soft giggle, slumping lower against Jean’s chest. 

“Esta bien.” Came the amused reply from the other side of the door. 

Sasha groaned and slid even lower, peeking from behind her hand as if begging Jean to get it. He sighed but sat up to answer it and swung it open with a sideways smile, leaning against the door jam. “Not Connie?” He asked out of habit, but he knew the man that his every fantasy, though he had yet to stoop so low as to jerk himself off to Sasha's brother, that would just be pathetic. He’d commonly come after Sasha after something went amiss. 

“Not Connie.” He confirmed, slinking in between the doorway and Jean. “Home, Sasha.” He suggested easily, not reacting to her sinking into the couch and gripping her around the wrists to pull her up, instead. “See you next time?” He commented wryly, his eyes twinkling with amusement and Jean nodded, a smile coloring his features at he eyed the man’s ass on the way out. He wasn't staring, he was just admiring. 

Jean leaned his hip against the window pane and blocked his eyes with one hand against the glare, waving down to the pair of foster siblings walking idly out of his building. Sasha was typing animatedly at her phone and Marco shielded his eyes the same way as Jean, returning the wave. Jean’s eyes flicked to the sky slightly. 

Sunshine. Surprisingly it hadn't dimmed without his moon to compliment it. Jean was on his way to realize that a sun could shine alone, but a moon could not and that maybe Eren had gotten it backwards, that he was the moon, because whenever Eren was brought up it was with a soft sigh of breath and a delicate, brittle smile. Eren left an effect like a sun would if you looked at it too long. Eren was the sun and Jean was the moon and while a moon could compliment a sun’s beauty a sun could be just as beautiful alone. Jean wished he could be just as beautiful alone, but when he was alone, he was sad. 

**Sasha:** stop staring at marco’s ass before i tell him **Sasha:** ten tonight btw  
**Sasha:** be late and I’ll steal your locker again  
**Sasha:** u can stare at my ass if u want though  
**Sasha:** wait can u tell me whose ass it better bc now i want to know  
**Sasha:** im in a profession when i need a nice ass so if he had a better ass than me then  
**Sasha:** ill cut it off in his sleep tbh 

**Jean:** I was not staring!! 

**Sasha:** (;; 

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like the end was kinda weak and I might even go back in and change it but inspiration literally hit me out of no where and i kinda just typed until i couldnt anymore so 
> 
> thanks for reading ^^


End file.
